


Nephology

by Scribe



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-28
Updated: 2009-12-28
Packaged: 2017-10-05 09:55:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/40405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scribe/pseuds/Scribe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nephology, n. The study of clouds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nephology

_The audience went wild again when Billy walked onstage. It hit him immediately, that rush that never faded or got tiring, born of the unconditional adoration of the crowd. Dom's eyes were aglow with it and he favored Billy with a grin that said, isn't it great? Billy wanted to kiss him, not out of any desperate need or longing, but out of joy. They embraced. The screams doubled, redoubled, crescendoing into a new octave. Billy whispered in Dom's ear,_

_"I want you to fuck me later."_

_They separated and waved to the crowd, no evidence of a secret in their manner. They hid nothing and never had. The world just hadn't yet learned how to see._

\--

Backstage they step into an empty dressing room. Someone with a microphone repeats their names and receives a thunderous shout that is muted as the door shuts.

"They love you," says Billy with a smile. He takes Dom's face in both hands and kisses him until they both run out of breath. "But not like I do."

They stand in an easy embrace.

"Did you mean what you said earlier?" asks Dom.

"About you fucking me tonight? I meant it."

"A few years ago we would have been at it as soon as we came in here. You remember those days?"

"Ach, I'm too old for that now. I'm all for shagging, but a good cup of tea might be even better." Nevertheless, Billy _mmms_ and presses closer when one of Dom's fingers wriggles under his waistband to stroke his entrance gently.

"You look good tonight, Bill."

"Trying to woo me into your bed?"

Dom laughs. "More like wooing you onto my counter."

"And a very nice counter it is. Probably seen it's share of backstage...excitement."

"A bit narrow for my tastes, actually. I would only woo you onto the classiest of counters."

"I'm touched."

"In the head, maybe."

"Clever, Monaghan. Very original, that was."

Dom's finger continues rubbing, up and down, up and down.

"How long are you in town?" he asks.

"Three days."

"Stay with me?"

"You don't have to ask."

"I like to."

"Okay, then." Dom thinks he can feel the very beginnings of Billy's arousal against his thigh. He stops rubbing and instead presses the very tip of his finger inside. Billy's breath catches and he pushes forward a little, proving Dom entirely correct. Dom smiles and moves his hand to the small of Billy's back, under his shirt.

"Still want that tea?"

"Always."

"I'm sure we could find some around here."

"Only some awful chemical thing."

"You should go find some girl in the audience and ask her to get you a proper cup. You'd probably get the best in town. And everyone else would scream and cry and be terribly envious."

"It's only fitting," says Billy solemnly, turning his head to rest it against Dom's shoulder. "After all, I _am_ amazing."

"You are."

"Charming, intelligent, handsome, brilliant actor..."

"Overflowing with humility."

"You don't have to be humble when you're as amazing as I am."

"If you're all that amazing, you shouldn't have to talk about it. I smell a fraud."

"Do you?"

"Mhmm. It smells like...hotel soap and dry-cleaned shirt and sweat."

"Are you saying I smell?"

"Yes. Horribly. You're positively rank."

Billy sniffs, disregarding the fact that his nose is smushed into Dom's shoulder.

"All this fame must've addled your brain. I smell like roses and newly washed babies."  
Someone knocks on the door.

"Hello?" calls a female voice.

"Sorry, just a second!" replies Dom. They disentangle themselves. Billy pauses for a moment as if about to say something, but changes his mind.

In the hallway, a girl with dyed red hair and a staff uniform apologizes for disturbing them.

"Don't mind us," Billy tells her, "we're just taking a bit of a breather." He exchanges a conspiratorial glace with Dom. The girl smiles, and maybe she understands more than they think she does. She produces four varieties of teabag when they ask.

\--

_They stayed at the convention several hours later than expected. The lines in front of their table stretched until they seemed endless. Again and again the resolved to stop after that one there, but the awe-stricken excitement on the face of the next girl was impossible to disappoint. After all, as Billy pointed out, how could he find the heart to leave knowing that his most negligent, illegible scribble could make such a difference to her? So they smiled and through camera- flash induced headaches and started a contest regarding the best one-liner said to a fan while signing. This only lasted a few minutes before the volunteer staff emerged from a muttered conference, cut the line short, and ushered them outside._

_The hotel room was all layers of shadow and beneath them, Dom's hands in Billy's hair and Billy's mouth on Dom's neck and Dom's legs sliding over and around the curve of Billy's hip, starting slow and then speeding, speeding._

_They left exhaustion far behind._

\--

"Fuck," sighs Dom eventually. He is sprawled on his back with Billy lying half on top of him, one leg draped over his waist. Billy's thigh is a bit too close and a bit too prickly for the comfort of his tender nether regions, but he isn't sure he can move just yet, so he lets it stay there.

"I'm an incredible shag, aren't I?" Billy smiles against Dom's chest.

"You are."

"Practically a sex god."

"Again with the modesty, Bill."

"You're not so bad yourself," concedes Billy, patting somewhere near Dom's shoulder in what is meant to be a comforting manner.

"It was better than the counter, though, wasn't it?"

"Aye. Although sex on a counter does have a certain thrill to it."

Dom takes the opportunity to pinch Billy's bottom, which he's been itching to do for the last few minutes. Billy yelps and wriggles closer.

"What was that for?"

"Thrill," says Dom, somewhat wickedly. Billy does not deign to reply. Dom's hand skates over his back and up to pet his hair.

"Do we need to set the alarm?" asks Billy, rousing himself from the edge of sleep.

"The people call," Dom murmurs. Pauses. Makes an effort to form coherent words. "I told them at the front desk we wanted a wake up call. Twenty minutes before we have to go."

Billy can feel Dom's heartbeat under his fingertips, slow and steady now. It remains in his mind even as his thoughts scatter and he drowses. He wonders if his dreams will have the same comforting rhythmic undertone. He lifts his head as if to say something, but Dom is already asleep, so he lets it go.

 

In the small hours of the morning Dom wakes up with a groan. Billy is dead weight on his chest, whuffling with every exhalation. He shifts a little when prodded.

"Bill," whispers Dom, "get your knee out of my groin, would you?"

Billy mutters something incoherent that might be an attempt at an apology, rolls away, and falls back to sleep on the other side of the bed.

Nevertheless, when Dom wakes up in the morning Billy's arms are around him, one small hand pressed over his heart.

\--

_The drive to the airport was short and mostly silent. They sat in the back of the cab, hands clasped innocently on the seat between them. Billy closed his eyes and concentrated on the feeling of Dom's rough palm against his, long fingers curled over the back of his hand, the contrast of the textured edges of two rings. The car hummed and traffic buzzed outside their tiny world. They breathed. Billy let the white noise fill his mind. He thought of static and blank spaces and how Dom radiated heat in every season. Dom's hand in his was hot and dry and encompassing. Billy wondered if he could ever feel at home in the desert._

_They arrived at the airport late, as usual.  
_

\--

"What was that business with the computers?" pants Billy as they hurtle toward gate 22C, dodging surprised families and leaping bravely over bulky luggage in a single bound.

"You can check in online now, didn't you know?" replies Dom, grinning crazily as they brush by a posse of men in business suits. "They just had to give me the farthest gate."

"Of course. Probably karma."

"What did I do?"

"I don't know. Corrupt young children? Engage in unspeakable acts with a raccoon? You tell me."

They careen around the corner and come to a full stop next to the last row of seats, earning stares from the last four people in line to board. The laughter drops visibly from Billy's face.

"Dom-" he starts, and then he is caught up in a tight hug. He clutches back for a long moment, memorizing the fit of Dom's broad chest against his shoulders, and if Dom's breathing is a little more uneven than can be explained by their dash through the airport, he pretends not to notice.

One of the women collecting tickets clears her throat pointedly and they step apart, but Dom doesn't leave. He simply stands, looking awkward and unsure. Billy knows the look on his face, knows because it is mirrored on his own, so he cuts his eyes away to the floor and listens as Dom overcomes the urge to kiss him goodbye and turns away. Just then he remembers what he's been meaning to tell Dom all weekend. He starts to call out, but is cut off by the harsh click of the walkway door. The women close the barrier in front of it and disappear without sparing him a glance.

_Oh, well,_ he tells himself. _Next time._

 

The pressure of take-off doesn't fade once they've leveled out, but shifts from Dom's chest to his temples. He blinks ferociously down at his mottled blue armrest. The plane is noisy and uncomfortable, but today he can't bring himself to escape it by watching the world out his window. He has a nagging feeling that humans were never meant to endure the kind of distance now falling away beneath him.

The sentiment passes by the time they reach the clouds. The stewardess recognizes him and he smiles and chats with her a little, then trades an autograph for a covertly produced mixture of something alcoholic and raspberry flavored. The drink is sweet enough to make him wince, but it doesn't counteract the lingering bitterness in his throat. He leans his seat back and closes his eyes.

 

Billy sits quietly in front of the enormous glass window for a long time after Dom's plane disappears from sight, watching the clouds come in.


End file.
